


we only want what's best

by sullenriots



Series: unknown pleasures [1]
Category: Black Mirror, Black Mirror: Bandersnatch
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fuck Canon, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 04:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17277317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullenriots/pseuds/sullenriots
Summary: Stefan realises that Colin is always going to be a constant.





	we only want what's best

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in an hour idek what this is ??? or at what point in bandersnatch this is set yall can use ur imaginations wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff ect  
> i just want my troubled gay baby stefan to have a happy ending w his anarchist punk bf bye  
> expect typos

Stefan doesn’t know how he ended up here. 

In fact, Stefan doesn’t really know how he ends up anywhere these days - things just happen, out of his control. Dr. Haynes says he’s gaining confidence, and maybe he is, because knocking on the door of Colin Ritman and one of his famous “parties” definitely isn’t like the usual Stefan.

He overheard Colin talking about it to some other employees at Tuckersoft as Stefan was walking out, refusing the offer to work in the office. Another choice that came out of nowhere.

He knocks the door of the flat, pulse raising in tandem with the deep bass he can hear from within the building. The door opens, a shock of blonde and arched eyebrows looking down at Stefan. Colin stares for a moment, before smirking.

“Interesting choice,” he says. “Come on in then.”

He opens the door, but barely, Stefan having to inch past him in close quarters.

“Th-thanks,” Stefan stutters, clutching his satchel close. He had brought the prototype of Bandersnatch with him, stupidly, out of the hope that Colin could help him out of the rut he’s driven himself into, and also because every time he’s coding he gets the insane urge to destroy everything he’s worked on by smashing his computer or drowning his keyboard in hot liquid.

Stefan stops awkwardly in the hallway, waiting for Colin to lead to way, which he does. He leads them into a spacious yet dimly lit room, vinyl filling the place with Bauhaus and various people are laying on the sofa, hands moving slowly in the air as if they’re making shapes no-one else can see.

“They don’t look like they’re having much fun,” Stefan mutters quietly, mostly to himself, but Colin chuckles. 

“Don’t pay them any mind,” Colin says, looking down at Stefan and gesturing to his bag. “You got Bandersnatch with you?”

“Uh, oh, well, y-yeah, I just thought, maybe-”

“Come with me,” Colin interrupts, walking past the people on the couch who are grinning into the air, and into another room.

It’s smaller this one, with a single bed backed up against the wall, an impressive computer system the main focus point, as if a bed was a mere afterthought, prioritising work over sleep, or any other kind of activity.

The fact that it’s a single bed Stefan finds odd, vaguely recalling something about Colin being married.

Colin closes the door behind them both, leaving them in the silence of the room, other than the muffled music coming from next door.

“Where, um, does your wife sleep?”

Colin raises an eyebrow, walking towards Stefan, so close that Stefan has to lift his head to look at him, the other boy towering over him. Colin looks at him for a second, before he opens Stefan’s satchel, taking out the game and paraphernalia.

“Wife?” Colin asks, broad back turning as he sets up the computer. “Wrong path, mate.”

Something in Stefan freezes at that, deja vu coursing through his veins.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Colin retorts, the start menu flashing up on the screen. “Now, you gonna show me what your problem is with your game?”

Stefan skips through the game as if on auto-pilot, the decisions coming easy to him, but stumbling upon dead ends that he doesn’t know how to finish.

“See, it’s just this path that I don’t know how to code, I don’t know what kind of ending to give it, I think I’ve went too deep,” Stefan murmurs, fumbling with the joystick after he selects an option that leads him nowhere.

Colin looms over Stefan in his desk chair, omnipresent, hands resting on the desk as he watches Stefan’s dilema. The white screen of black text is reflected in his glasses when Stefan looks back at him, making Colin’s eyes unreadable. 

“You know what you’re in, don’t you?” Colin asks.

Stefan furrows his eyebrows, thinking. He feels like he’s buried himself, not able to see anything around him.

“It’s kind of like,” Stefan stutters, looking up at Colin, the words coming to him before he can even think of them. “I’m - I’m in a hole?”

Colin smirks.

“Clever boy,” he says, leaning over to turn off the computer, and Stefan shivers at the feeling of the other boy’s arm brushing against his. Colin smells of tobacco, but it’s something warm and comforting, not off putting and stale and disgusting. Maybe because he smokes roll ups, not those pre-rolled B&H fags filled with strychnine.

“How about I help get you out of it?” Colin says, low against Stefan’s ear, close enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his heart to beat a nervous staccato. 

Colin takes a spliff out of his pocket, the end twisted into a perfect point, and waves it in front of Stefan’s face.

“You know the drill,” Colin drawls, almost mockingly. “Completely your choice. No pressure.”

-

They’re sitting next to each other on the bed. Stefan doesn’t know when they moved, or when Colin sparked his joint, lazily taking a drag as he leans against the headboard. There’s fairy lights strung around the room, casting an ambient glow, small bulbs glittering against the various music posters blu-tacked to the white walls.

Colin has his long legs splayed out, whereas Stefan hugs his bony knees to his equally bony chest, jumper clad hands holding his legs. Colin turns to look at him, eyes hazy already, and he holds out the joint.

“I’ve, um, I’ve never,” Stefan sputters, dark eyes wide, but Colin just smiles.

“It’s all right, I’m sure there’s lots of things you haven’t done before, Stefan. I’ll guide you through them.”

Stefan flushes, red and hot, snapping his gaze away from Colin’s smirking eyes and all knowing gaze. Colin has a way of looking at Stefan and making him feel nervous and squirmy inside, but not in a bad way. Colin is intimidating and comfortable and interesting, and makes Stefan feel small and lost however maybe that’s why Stefan wants him, needs him. To guide him - protect him even. From whatever the fuck is going on inside his head.

“Do you want me to show you what to do?” Colin says softly, almost tenderly. 

Stefan nods, wide eyed, like a lost puppy. Colin chuckles, and his hands move to reach for Stefan’s skinny waist, causing him to gasp.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, just making the two of us more comfortable,” Colin says, shifting Stefan so he’s on his lap, small thighs on either side of Colin’s hips, faces level with each other.

Colin takes off his glasses, and Stefan is met with his intense stare, but his eyes look softer as he looks at Stefan with something like familiarity. He picks the joint off the ashtray, tapping off the end.

“Now,” he says, and Stefan’s dark eyes flick back to him. “I’m going to blow, you inhale.”

Stefan hesitates. What do you mean? He thinks. “Okay,” he says instead.

Colin smirks, joint between his lips. 

“Good boy.”

Stefan flushes. He’s suddenly overwhelmingly aware of the large palm on his lower back, big fingers splayed over his skinny body, keeping him steady. Because that’s what Colin does.

Stefan watches intently as Colin inhales the spliff, its strong scent filling the room. Stefan suddenly remembers that there’s other people only a few metres away, but right now, it feels like no one else matters, or anything else in fact. Just Colin and Stefan, two fixed points in time. Other things are just variables.

Colin’s other hand presses gently against the back of Stefan’s head, fingers scratching into the dark hair and urging him forward. Stefan obliges, unhesitatingly, like it wasn’t even a choice, lips meeting and smoke mingling between their tongues. 

He inhales gently, the weed burning his throat but he doesn’t cough, not like - Stefan’s heart freezes for a split second in his chest - not like last time.

Stefan fists Colin’s t-shirt in his hands, leaning forward as he deepens their kiss, thoughts of being on a balcony and the wind against their skin and Kitty screaming burning in his mind. Colin makes a small noise in his throat like surprise, before he laughs into the kiss, hands smoothing up and down the younger boys body. Stefan hates that Colin’s laughing while his own eyes are stinging, his heart aching.

Stefan pulls back, eyes wet.

“Please don’t say this is the wrong path,” Stefan whispers, pleading.

Colin cups his cheek, pulling him close to rest their foreheads together.

“Nah, I’d say you’re on the right track this time.”


End file.
